The Fissure of Humanity
by midnightwings96
Summary: Post 4x14. Now that Silas has been raised, danger looms over Mystic Falls and all of those who live there. Damon and Elena are faced with an unexpected consequence after their search for the cure takes a nasty turn. Old and new friends come to play...and even a few enemies, and they all must face the fact nothing will ever be the same again. Delena, Klaroline, JeremyxOC, TylerxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hola, my marvelous readers! :) Before we dive headfirst into the insanity of The Vampire Diaries, I would like to introduce my two co-writers for The Fissure of Humanity: TheSage96 and KDior. They're quite a bit newer to Fanfiction than I am, so we mutually decided to upload it onto my account. Know that we are complete equals in the writing process, and we are loving it! :D SO...we would _love _some feedback, it feeds our Muse! :D We hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 1

Elena uses the wall to pull herself to her feet, leaning heavily on Stefan. Wincing as she slowly feels her wounds begin to knit themselves together, she catches a powerful smell of blood in the distance. Her face contorts with the tell tale sign of her vampirism, her instinct to feed screaming from within her. She sees Stefan eye her cautiously before she manages to swallow down her hunger. After the pounding in Elena's head goes away and she is fully herself again, the gravity of their situation hits her full force. She has to get to Bonnie and Jeremy! She quickly shrugs Stefan's hand off of her shoulder and stumbles across the uneven, stony floor of the cave, tripping over the dips and fissures in the rock.

"Elena, I think you should stay—" Stefan begins, but she waves him off angrily.

"No, Stefan. That's Jeremy and Bonnie down there. I'm going," Elena snaps at him. Stefan opens his mouth to argue, but he stops himself, nodding instead. Together, alone for one of the first times since their breakup, they step down the precarious path toward the tomb of Silas. The scent of blood grows stronger, and Elena is reminded of her need to feed again, but the fear of the unknown swirling in her stomach overcomes it.

"Stefan, someone's badly hurt down there." She shakily states the obvious, needing some degree of reassurance. He just looks at her without argument and moves ahead to the lead. Elena thinks viciously that this cure is the farthest thing from worth what it has cost them. She thinks of Rebekah and Damon, wounded and collapsed above them, and of her relationship with the eldest Salvatore. Was he right? She wondered to herself. Is being a vampire the right thing. For her? For him? For them both?

The smell of blood kicks her out of her internal war, reminding her that they have Bonnie and Jeremy to worry about.

The tunnel opens up to reveal a sort of center room. The lighting is dim, but it is enough to see by, and the first thing Elena notices is Bonnie's limp form collapsed against one wall. She gasps aloud. Rushing over to her and kneeling by her side, she quickly assesses the damage. Her eyes are closed, but after a few painfully slow moments, Elena just barely detects shallow breathing. The witch's blood is everywhere, oozing from her abdomen. Her shirt is almost completely soaked through with the sticky liquid. Elena's hand lies directly in it, fruitlessly attempting to stop it.

"Bonnie? Bonnie!" Elena calls to her. Bonnie's eyelids flutter slightly, but aside from that, she doesn't register that she could hear her friend's cries. Without another moment's hesitation, Elena brings her own wrist to her mouth and rips at the skin there with her teeth. Ignoring Bonnie's blood dripping from her hands, she lowers her arm to the witch's mouth and picks up her head for her to drink. Stefan relaxes from his painfully tense position when Bonnie responds to Elena's blood trickling down her throat. Bonnie's eyes flutter open, although they are a bit glassy.

"Bonnie, what happened?" Elena asks frantically. Stefan crouches next to them and looks at her warily.

"Elena." He raises a hand as though to restrain her, but she glares at him fiercely, and he drops it.

"Katherine." Bonnie weakly rasps, and Elena stiffens, remembering that her ancestress had made a dramatic appearance. In the rush of bloodloss, she had partially forgotten about her. What the hell is she doing around here? How has she even heard about the cure?

Bonnie turns her head slightly, and her eyes fill immediately with tears, looking suddenly magnified and far too bright. Elena can feel her heart painfully pumping in her chest, and she tries to swallow the uneasiness. With a growing feeling of dread, she turns slowly to follow her gaze. The darkness makes it more difficult to see, but there is no doubting the presence of a limp form lying beneath a pedestal where she knows without a doubt Silas had once lain. Trembling now, she stands and turns her back on Bonnie's weak form, stepping towards the body. Wide eyed, one hand covers her mouth as a heart wrenching sob is ripped from her body. She collapses on her knees, the shaking too much. Elena sees the dark mess of hair, kind brown eyes, and the familiar mouth, twisted in a look of horror, his neck ripped open. It isn't, it just can't really be—

"Jeremy." She whispers, and then the tears come flooding down her cheeks. Her little brother, the last real family she had left, is dead.

Something within her snaps, and Elena breaks into hysterics, her hands floating over the motionless body of her brother, completely ignorant of what to do. "No, no, no, no…," she whimpers, a never ending trail of tears flowing down her cheeks. How can he be dead? He was the _one _constant in her tragedy of a life. He couldn't _die. _Not Jeremy. Not her baby brother. Gut wrenching sobs escape her throat with a vengeance, echoing throughout the cave. She sat there, trying to rationalize that this shouldn't—couldn't happen, instead of facing facts.

"Elena, we need to get them out of here and back home." Stefan's voice breaks through her inner monologue, but she doesn't respond. All of her family is gone now. Her parents, Jenna, Alaric, John, and now Jeremy. She had done everything possible to protect him, and now he's dead, and Katherine has the cure. They had risked and lost everything for nothing! Swallowing thickly, Elena weakly bends down and pulls her little brother to her by the shoulders. Stefan moves forward to help, but after one look at her fierce but broken expression, he turns and walks back over to take care of Bonnie, who was just now able to sit up. Stefan goes first up the tunnel to return to the surface, and Elena, her own wounds now completely forgotten, her physical ones anyway, clumsily stands up with Jeremy in her arms. She clutches at his limp body like her life depends on it, her throat screaming at her to release more of her cries. Bonnie stumbles ahead of them, and Stefan picks her up to carry her the rest of the way. They pick their way back up to the tunnel where they have left Shane, and Elena desperately tries her best to support Jeremy's neck so it doesn't flop over. He had gotten so big and bulky that it is hard for her to hold him. She stares down at her baby brother's face through her tears.

Elena hears movement in the distance, and she assumes that Shane is trying to move again. She briefly wonders if Damon is okay further up, anxiously trying to clear her mind of the horrors that had just befallen her, Elena but she knows that she is only anxiously trying to clear her mind of the horrors that had just befallen her. Up ahead, Stefan reaches the entrance to the tunnel, and she hurries to catch up, inhaling sharply. The sooner that they get out of this cave and off that damned island, the better she will feel.

When Stefan jerks to a stop in front of her, she nearly runs into him and drops her brother, but she manages to stop just in time, lurching slightly. She, with irritation, wonders why he is blocking her way out of the tunnel. Elena cranes her neck enough to see an unfamiliar figure leaning over the place where Shane had lain when they had passed by before. With a small push, she shoves Stefan out of the way and takes several steps towards them, setting her brother on the ground, his back pressed up against one wall.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Elena snarls at the young woman now leaning over the barely conscious professor.

* * *

A blue glow washes over Shane's leg. I feel the heat from the bone resetting and sealing the femur together. He has already blacked out from the pain, and I try to contain the slightest feeling of revulsion at his weakness. A slight pinch of guilt, however, locks in my stomach, If I wouldn't have wanted him to teach her...

"Who are you!" A blur comes from the tunnel that leads further into the earth. I turn my head to see, a brown haired, obviously self-absorbed girl bares her fangs at me. I'm not generally the type to have tolerance for vain people, but I am still intrigued. I can see the obvious tear stains on her cheeks, and her brown, doe-like eyes seem to be overwhelmed with emotion. She stays close to the wall, guarding whatever is behind her. In the dark, it could be anything but my acute nose can smell the blood.

"Healing his leg. What are you doing, parasite?" I remove my hands from his leg, though I have more work on the muscles and nerves in the area. She seems surprised that I have recognized her for what she is, a vampire, but her companion has quite the opposite reaction. Her puffy, admittedly good looking, vampire bodyguard snarls at the comment, and he steps forward almost close enough to put his teeth into my neck. Barely sparing him a glance, I flick my wrist and he flies back against the rock and collapses on the ground. The girl flinches at the sound of the impact, almost running to him, but she stays. Whatever is behind her is obviously more important than the man who is clearly radiating love for her. Suddenly, I'm even more intrigued.

"I'm alright, Elena." He growls, unable to move from my magic holding him. His green eyes look at me with unspoken threats, but I know that he is not concerned by his own welfare so much as that of the girl, this _Elena_.

All at once, the pieces of the puzzle click together. I force a nonchalant tone as I work on Shane's leg, not giving her the satisfaction of eye contact. "Elena. The Petrova Doppelgänger? Well. You were. Then you died, didn't you?" I arch one eyebrow as a smirk tugs at my lips. "You were a rarity as a human. How does it feel being one of two?" I pause, my smirk immediately replaced with an intense scowl. "Speaking of your twin, where is she? I've been meaning to... _catch up_ with her since she practically made my sister her _slave_." I grit my teeth together at the thought of Katerina Petrova and her long-term "friendship" with my sister. Over the years, she's managed to tick me off more than a few times, and one way or another, she'll get what's coming to her.

Elena steps further into the dim light, and I really have to resist the urge to stop her heart. All the rumors about her appearance are true. "Katherine is gone." She hisses. "Probably miles away with the cure already." She pauses briefly, and a flash of emotion rolls across her face.

"I take it we have a common enemy." I go back to healing Shane, and he moans in agony, having partially awoken.

"Katherine took everything from me." She hisses, her face contorting with fury.

"That's where we are alike." I finish with Shane and stand up, brushing the dirt from my turquoise jeans. "I'm Ariana." I grasp her hand and peer over her shoulder, seeing the lifeless body behind her, and the neck wound, which is now seeping blood onto the gray stone behind him. I quickly put two and two together. _Damn it, Katherine, _I think, _Taking another young boy's life._ I shake it again. "Ariana Bennett."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! All three of us would like to thank you guys for the alerts and the few reviewers. :) We really appreciate it, and we hope to get more feedback from you!**

**Just another reminder, I'm co-writing this with KDior and TheSage96, who are two of my real-life friends :D.**

**Disclaimer: We do not own The Vampire Diaries or any of its characters, except Ariana. All rights go to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, Kevin Williamson, and anyone else that owns this addictive storyline.**

* * *

Damon forces himself to his feet, chest heaving, and scarlet blood dripping from his face and throat, where his most recent adversary had nearly pounded him into a pulp. He didn't like losing a fight or admitting that he had been overpowered, but that Hunter—Vaughn, or whatever the bastard's name was— had been a nasty piece of work and a serious thorn in his side. He staggers slightly, inwardly cursing the Hunter for trying to bleed him out, and tries to ignore the throbbing pain that continuously wracks his body in torturous waves. Groaning, he looks over at Rebekkah, still collapsed on the floor, and eyes the tiny wooden daggers that had penetrated her heart. They must have been very powerful to keep down an Original, especially one as angry as Rebekkah had been.

A jolt of shock courses through him when his mind finally clears. _Elena_. He curses to himself at his stupidity and pride. He should have gone with her, despite their argument about her taking the cure…and his outright refusal to take it with her. She just didn't understand. She's so _certain _that she'll love him without the bond, but there is always the possibility that she won't, and given Damon's luck? That possibility is _very _high. And aside from that, they are in one of the most dangerous times of their life. _Choosing _to become _weaker _is not a good idea. He couldn't watch her throw away her immortality, and potentially his love. His heart pounds in his chest at the thought of losing her; it's like taking a stake to the chest every step closer she gets to finding some sort of cure for vampirism.

Pulling him out of his reverie, a noise sounds from one of the tunnels. He tenses, on guard, and moments later, Elena's tear-stained face comes into view as she leaps out of the hole that lead to Silas. "Elena." His own exhaustion forgotten, Damon stumbles towards her, immediately noticing the blood on her head. Suddenly, a protective fury surges through him as he sees that there is much more blood than he originally noticed.

Their eyes meet, ice blue with chocolate brown, and Damon automatically feels his heart drop to his stomach as he realizes that something horrible must have happened. He stands in front of her now, tenderly placing his hands on her shoulders. His blue eyes scan her face and those eyes full of sorrow, some part of him breaking because of her pain. "Elena?" She doesn't respond, only gives him a tortured look just as someone else jumps up to join them. Damon tears his eyes from Elena's to see Stefan, who is carrying a limp form in his arms, a somber look on his face.

A spasm of pain hits his heart with newfound vigor when he focuses on the limp figure in his brother's arms. Jeremy. _Damn _it. He looks back at Elena to see she's looking straight into his eyes, tears begging to be released from her eyes but not falling. Following one of his deepest instincts, his arms immediately go around Elena. His actions make the dam break, and she unleashes gut wrenching sobs. He tightens his hold on her, wishing that he could erase all of her tears and all of her suffering. The last of her family was gone now, but, believe it or not, he is not only pained for her sake; he had grown almost fond of the kid over the past few months.

Elena's body shudders heavily as she cries into his chest, newfound tears bubbling their way to the surface. Damon strokes her hair with one hand as he watches Stefan set Jeremy's body against one wall before leaping down the hole again and returning with Bonnie in tow. The witch looks like she's been through hell. The bloodstain on her shirt looks serious, but the fact that she is still standing and breathing as Stefan sets her down, tells Damon that she's already been healed. He looks down at Elena again, holding her as tightly as he dared, wanting just to keep her from breaking apart. Never before has he seen her look so fragile, so vulnerable. Of course, Damon understands about losing family and how the loss affects you _all too well_, but he doesn't like seeing Elena, _his_ Elena, look so broken and utterly destroyed. Another pain pierces his heart as her shoulders shake again with tears, and he wishes that there were something, anything he could do to take away her suffering.

A greenish glow from the direction of the hole catches his eye, and he glances over Elena's head, looking quickly at Bonnie, but seeing that she isn't casting at all. A dark eyebrow arches in question at the scene before him. His question is partially answered as Shane's obviously unconscious body levitates through the opening, followed by a toned, dark-haired young woman. A witch. Damon watches her with a guarded expression as the witch levitates them over solid ground and sets them down. _So, Bonnie isn't Shane's only bitch. _Obviously, the girl was using Expression; from what he knew about the spirits, Damon knew that they would never allow such petty magic to be used.

"Who is she?" Damon directs his question to Stefan, not feeling inclined to address the witch personally. His voice is guarded, but he can't completely repress the smallest prickle of anxiety over the presence of this unknown. She turns to glare at him, ferocity lighting in her blue eyes. For a moment, he actually felt as if she might set fire to him.

"If you want to know something about me, parasite, I suggest you ask me." She snapped at him haughtily. Elena turned to look at the witch with disdain, battling the pain for precedence on her face.

"Her name is Ariana Bennett. She's a witch." Elena sniffles, obviously trying to control herself now. Damon winces at the raw pain in her voice. She shouldn't have to control it right now; she should be allowed at least some time to grieve.

"Great. Because another Bennett witch is just what we need right now," Damon retorts, his voice both sarcastic and angry at the situation. Stefan gives him a criticizing look, but he waves it off—there was no use in him going soft on them now. They needed to get off of this God-forsaken Island and back to Mystic Falls. And another Bennett witch was the last thing they needed. The petite witch's eyes glowed with power once more, and Damon felt another prickle of nervousness before the ground rushed up to meet him. Pain, horrible, gut-wrenching pain grated against his skull. He vaguely hears a pained scream of, _"Stop! Stop hurting him!" _He lets out a small cry, bringing his hands up to his temples to press against his head before the pain is gone as quickly as it has come.

"Think twice before you insult either me or my family. We need to leave quickly. Get the other one and follow me." And with that, she is gone, leading the way through the entrance tunnel. Groaning, Damon opens his eyes to see Elena crouched down beside him, eyes wide and wet.

"Are you okay?" She hiccups at the end, her voice cracked and as broken as her expression. He nods, not wanting to say how he really felt and stands up. Elena doesn't need anything else to worry about; she just needs to be sheltered for a while, until she can stand on her own two feet again. Damon steps over to where Rebekkah is stirring and yanks her up to her feet. He knows that she's been listening, and he can't afford to have to compensate for her right now. They are both in pain, and they will both have to deal with it. He helps Elena get to her feet gently, still half-worried that she will break, and leads her up into the tunnel.

A raging tempest of a storm is brewing when they reach the outdoors again. The wind is so strong that it bends the trees sideways, and they groan in protest. The clouds are an ominous mass of piled grays, and thunder literally causes the ground to shake. Damon glances over at Bonnie as his black hair whips around his face, narrowing his blue eyes so he can see more clearly, but she seems petrified. He looks warily at the angry looking sky. Storms like this simply didn't come so quickly and without warning, not unless there were supernatural elements involved. A glance in Ariana's direction yields only evidence of careful concealment, as if the witch is trying her hardest to appear calm. No, this is no ordinary storm. The others are already across the clearing as Damon begins to try to pick his way around the small expanse of cleared land. Rebekkah takes one glance in his direction before bounding across the clearing at vampiric speed to join Stefan and the others under the safety of the forest. Damon takes a few more steps, not wanting to leave Elena there and knowing that she's not strong enough yet to make the quick dash around when, with a squeal of protest, a tree tears up by the roots and falls to a crash on their right. Damon jumps back, pulling Elena with him, and stumbles in surprise at the sight of another swaying tree looking like it was precariously close to falling nearby. He knows that the quickest way through is by cutting across the middle, but it's also the most vulnerable to the tempest around them.

"We'll have to cut through the middle." The sound of Elena's voice, echoing more strongly than he would have thought possible at this point, startles him by speaking his own thoughts aloud. He nods, looking down at her searchingly as her brown hair whips around her face in the gale. He sees her glance over to where Stefan now holds her brother's body once again before steeling herself against the storm. She squares her shoulders, and Damon admires her strength and fortitude with wonder and a touch of pride.

"Whenever you're ready." He replies, trying not to show her his anxiety—no, it was fear now. It is fear for her, and fear for the group as a whole, although he would only ever admit it to himself. She nods back at him, and he feels his heart catch with an emotion that he now recognizes as love. He had once thought he had felt it for another, similar in only appearance, but it had been only a faint shadow in comparison to what he feels for the woman beside him. Damon grasps her hand, looks into her almond-shaped brown eyes once more, and takes off running. She keeps pace with him, and they are almost to the other side when a shadow captures Damon's attention. He glances over, able only to discern a dark figure under the shadow of the swirling trees before a boom of thunder shatters the howl of the storm. Violent lightning illuminates the clearing and figure. Damon makes eye contact with a pair of icy blue eyes before he hits the ground, every muscle in his body tensing.

Starting at the base of his spine, an unyielding, unmerciful agony rips through his body. Damon chokes on his own breath as his back arches off the ground, a guttural scream tearing out of his throat. His limbs quake as the spasms wrack his body, as if it is trying to reject the life it has held for the past two centuries. He feels Elena's hand fist, still locked in his grip, as her nails dig into his flesh. She is shaking too, he can feel, but that is all that he has the capacity to register. A ripping sensation, as though his soul itself is being ripped from his being, besieges him next, and Damon lets out a wild scream as the sickening, unrelenting agony washes over him again and again, without the slightest hint of impending mercy or relief. His stomach heaves and contracts painfully as blood runs out of his mouth and nose, rejected from his system over and over. A painful shock slams into his chest multiple times, like an electric stake stabbed repeatedly into his heart, and a pressure in his head begins to build. It is like nothing that Damon has ever felt before, far worse than any of the witch's mind tricks or torture, or even the feeling of the Gilbert Device, and it makes him, for the first time since he met Elena, wish that he was dead. He would do anything, anything to end his suffering now, even if it means his own death. The pressure builds further and further, throbbing like a pulsating tumor on the edge of his brain until suddenly, his world explodes in a flash, the pain reaching an all-time high.

He manages to call out his lover's name, hoping, praying that she is not enduring the same torment that he is, begging whatever supernatural force was above them for relief for her if she was. Then suddenly, the pain is gone. He opens his eyes slowly, a tension left behind that left his every bone feeling like jelly. He looks beside himself at the limp but clearly bleeding form of the girl he loves, Elena Gilbert, before leaning his head back to close his eyes, feeling exhaustion and coldness plague his body that he hadn't felt in centuries.

* * *

Elena pushes against the wind, clutching onto Damon's smooth palm for support. His steady, gentle pressure on her shaking hand is the only thing keeping her from falling into a million tiny pieces. She leads the way, and Damon allows her to do so. She focuses mundanely on the sounds of the rushing breeze and the swaying trees, trying to expel every possible thought of her brother's bloody body from her mind, or at least for the moment. Right now, she knows that she needs to focus on getting through this clearing and to the other side. Then, they could go home and she could figure out what to do. There is no time for tears now.

Shooting a glance to the other side, she catches sight of the dark haired teen in Stefan's arms. She stifles back a sob, and Damon catches her chin in a comforting caress. His thumb wipes away an escaped tear, and she stares back into his steady gaze. She sharply inhales, trying not to feel weak, pretending that everything is perfectly fine, before nodding once to him. She watches his beautiful blue eyes soften slightly in one of his rare shows of raw emotion, and she feels utterly and completely loved, despite their situation. He squeezes her hand reassuringly, which she can't help noting the fact that the action is Damon's biggest public display of affection, and a small ghost of a smile ripples across her features. Together, they turn and take off at a sprint across the clearing.

The trees on either side blur by while Elena tries her best to ignore the sense of overwhelming fatigue coursing through her body. Her limbs tremble, both from anxiety and from an overwhelming feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, as she flies across the sopping wet ground. A swell of relief surges through her as she realizes that they're almost across, but the bad feeling grows even stronger with each passing second. She knows that the feeling is wrong; her skin prickles with the warning sound of thunder. Lightening crashes inches from her left, and all of a sudden, Damon collapses, dragging her down to the ground with him like a stone sinking into the vast, tremulous ocean.

Damon's mouth contorts to a grotesque angle, and an inhuman wale escapes from deep inside his tortured soul. She feels his muscles tense involuntarily. She cries out loud, not only at the sudden sharp assault of pain from inside of her head, but as Damon unknowingly crushes her hand. He convulses, arching his back up and his free hand digs deep into the slick mud. The other, unfortunately, breaks her fingers. She grits her teeth, trying to suffocate another scream. She forces her nails deep into his pale, perfect skin and as the dark burgundy blood flows, he releases his grip. Another spasm wracks his body, traveling from his forehead to his toes. She pushes herself up onto her hands and knees—wondering what the hell was happening to him—when she sees his face contort in pain.

A sense of panic sets in then, as she watches his face twist like a gargoyle's. She reaches up a hand to brush a few strands of dark hair off of his forehead, in an effort to comfort him anyway. At her touch, Damon lets out an animalistic howl, as though her very touch increased his agony. Suddenly, the storm grows even angrier. The wind swirls dangerously around them. The air feels heavier, and it's as if all the light has been sucked out of the area. She can barely see Damon biting into his lip so hard that blood streams from the corner. She feels the air tense around her, and then crackle. White-hot lightening shoots down from the hellish clouds right in-between the lovers. Elena gasps, jumping back five feet. Though she was able to get out of the way, small burns ripple down her fingertips and the skin bubbles. The wind surges powerfully against her skin, keeping her pinned to the ground just out of reach of her beloved.

Ignoring her pain, she forces herself to sit up against the F5 force wind. "Damon!" She tries to stand, but the gusts force her down. She can feel her own hair being ripped from her scalp. Her eyes are watering from the sting of the wind. The tears run down her cheeks, streaming across her collar bones, and disappearing into the fibers of her shirt. She feels the drive leave her, and she lays her face in the cool earth. It's almost like the storm is trying to keep her from Damon. The thought burrows into her mind. Damon's antagonizing cry cuts through the wind and rips into her heart. "Damon!" Her high pitched screech is heard over the gusts. Like a woman possessed, she digs her nails into the ground and pulls herself to Damon.

As soon as Elena reaches him, the strength is sucked from her body, and she herself is overcome by an abrupt pounding sensation in her head. She collapses on his chest, then, feeling her own body begin to shake and shudder in the same manner that Damon's is. He wraps a still spasming arm around her, and she intertwines their fingers. Curled into his side, unbearable pain rips through her once, accompanied by a resurgence of the pain in her head. There is another tearing sensation, that is nearly unbearable, and behind her now closed eyes, she sees a repetition of lightning flashes. It feels as if her very essence is being torn from her brain before the pain is suddenly gone. Weakened now, she lays on her side for a moment, opening her eyes in time to see a split lightning bolt streak across the sky. Beside her, Damon is still convulsing, caught in some sort of fit. She pushes herself to roll over, feeling her limbs trembling violently with the aftershock of her own experience.

Over the rise of Damon's shaking chest, she sees a shadowy figure in the woods. It raises its hands high into the air, and then points them in their direction. Lightening shoots from his palms and then strikes all around them. The heat and the lightening attack her senses, blinding her momentarily. She tries to push herself up to a protective position, but her arms are too weak and shaky to support her body. They buckle, feeling as limp and useless as soggy noodles. She is forced simply to watch as the figure lowers its hands slowly, and turns to disappear into the forest. As he goes, Damon's shaking begins to slow and his moaning begins to soften.

"Elena…" She hears his voice say her name, now sounding pitifully weak in comparison to what it normally is. Elena rests her head on his shoulder, looking up into his face. Never before has she seen him look so tired, so vulnerable. She feels his arm wrap around her weakly, and his chest is heaving as he seems to work hard to catch his breath. A cold wave of anxiety passes through Elena. What had just happened to them? For some reason, the realization hits her that the figure in the woods must have been Silas; no other supernatural being could have affected them this way. Another prickle of fear blows through her. Have they completely underestimated him? She brings her arm up to wrap around him, over his chest protectively as the convulsions and shuddering begins to slow.

She adjusts her position and pulls him tighter, not wanting to let him go, wanting only for his pain to be gone. It is one thing when she can see the source of the pain, when it is physical, but this new mental agony is something entirely different to witness. And somehow, she knows that she had only felt a portion of it, and she wonders how he had possibly endured it. He shifts his head slightly to look down at her, and she feels a flash of panic at the weak dullness in his usually vibrant blue eyes. A new bout of adrenaline coursing through her body, she shoots into a sitting position, looking down at him with brown eyes wide with distress.

"Damon?" she says his name frantically. His eyes barely flicker with recognition for her voice, and he begins to squirm. She moves to a sitting position and picks his head up to set it in her lap, trying to calm him. He just needs to rest at this point; he doesn't need to feel alarmed. Feeling something sticky and warm on her hand, she pulls it out from under his head and mass of thick, dark hair. A left over bolt of lightning splits the sky and she sees that instead of being the thick, slightly congealed, maroon colored blood that usually is yielded from a vampire, it is slippery, warm, scarlet blood. Instantly, appearing out of the mist that has formed in the wake of the storm, she hears Stefan coming across the clearing. She sees his alarmed expression as her face contorts with the desires and bloodlust of vampirism.

"Elena, what's wrong?" He asks her cautiously, not yet catching the scent. She looks up slowly from Damon to Stefan and witnesses Stefan's eyes widening at the smell.

The scent, the feel, the color, the reaction: they all add up.

"It's Damon… He's—he's… human."

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello lovely readers! I personally would like to apologize for this update being so late, as my proofing was what kept it from being uploaded. All three of us (kdior, TheSage, and I) were also quite involved in our AP Literature class, but that's now over! Woot!**

**Anyway, here's the update, and I apologize if there are any typos, mistakes, or confusion. I proofed this on my phone (not the best work technique, I know). All three of us would love to hear from you and what you thought in a review! **** *hint hint***

**Disclaimer: We do not own The Vampire Diaries or any of its characters, excluding Ariana. All rights go to Julie Plec, LJ Smith, etc. No profit is being made from this.**

Klaus Mikaelson has never been one accustomed to the feeling of remorse. He has always found that life is easiest when he forces his way through. Fear may not be the kindest tool to employ, but he had always found it an easier one than setting himself up for betrayal. To be feared was always far better than to be loved.

His trust had been betrayed too many times for him to give it freely, and despite all that he had tried to become better for Caroline's sake, it has all backfired. Now, she won't even talk to him.

Of course, he knows that he can't really blame her…

Klaus knows that Tyler Lockwood won't need that head start that he gave him, because for all of Klaus's threats, after a thousand years of hunting, killing, and striking fear into the hearts of most who knew him, he is tired of chasing. But even the most detestable of habits die hard, and his trust is still held under lock and key. He would like to give it to Caroline, but he knows that he won't receive anything in return, making the deal seem bitter.

Although why she continues to trust and love that mangy mongrel he sent away, after he's hurt her again and again, Klaus won't ever know. Of course, he knows that he's done some bad things too, but it's all so different.

"Hello, Tyler? It's Caroline again. I know that when you left, you probably did the smart thing and ditched your phone, so I don't know when you'll get these messages, but call me back as soon as you do." There's a pause before she continues. "It's Jeremy, Tyler. He's dead, and we don't really know if he's going to wake back up. I love you so much, and I just need to hear your voice. So call me when you can." There is an audible click as Caroline hangs up the phone and steps outside her door.

She walks all the way across the porch before noticing Klaus, and although her eyes narrow in hatred, he can't deny the feeling of unaccustomed warmth that spreads through him at her gaze. "Hello, love," he greets simply, easing himself up to a standing position from the porch swing and walking comfortably towards her. She recoils as he nears, tensing, and a strange feeling of hurt, which Klaus does not allow to cloud his features, comes over him.

"Stay away from me, Klaus. I don't want to talk to you," she spits. Klaus tries not to take offense. _She has a right to be angry_, he remembers. Her boyfriend only left because he had threatened his life. Granted, the filthy mongrel deserved it, but that won't take away Caroline's hurt; she can't see it as he does.

"Come on, Caroline, just a small chat. We have some things to discuss," he tries again. He doesn't really know what he will say to mend their really nonexistent friendship, but he knows that he wants to.

"Unless you're letting Tyler return to Mystic Falls, I don't want to hear it," she snips, flipping her blonde hair as she tries to walk away. He reaches out to grab her arm, but she recoils again, as if he is too disgusting to touch. Klaus lets his hand drop now, not really sure what to do. He stops to watch her walk away, blonde hair catching with the breeze, when the slim, dark form of Bonnie Bennett appears down the street.

"Klaus!" she calls as he turns to get away from her. The last thing he needs right now is that snippy little Bennett witch coming around and making things worse. He is about to make a dash for it, but he catches a glance at her, and something in her expression makes him stay. Her green eyes are round and frightened-looking, her skin pale.

"Well, well, well. What's got our little super-witch so frightened?" he says smoothly, trying to conceal his avid curiosity.

Her voice stays steady. "We need your help. It's Damon. He's sick or something and I've never heard of something like this before. He keeps tossing and turning, and he has a fever somehow. Elena's distraught, and she asked me to come find you, to see if maybe you knew something…" He grasps her shoulders to cut through her monologue as Caroline appears beside them, glaring at Klaus with suspicion.

"Bonnie, what's going on?" She asks, not taking her eyes off of Klaus. He resists the urge to just turn and walk away, knowing that it won't solve whatever problem the doppelganger is having. It will not necessarily affect him, but perhaps if he could help, he could redeem himself somehow. Besides, if there is some sort of sickness that Damon has caught without the aid of werewolf venom, Klaus knows that he'll want to be informed.

"It's Damon. It's like his immortality's gone. Elena thinks he might be dying." Her expression is more collected now, although Klaus notes that her face is still very pale.

"Show me," he says, his curiosity considerably peaked. He's never heard of anyone _losing_ their immortality, despite his centuries of life, and the prospect is...unsettling.

* * *

Elena jumps as the door to Damon's bedroom swings open, slamming into the wall with a bang. She lets go of Damon's hand and stands to face the new Bennett witch, the Hybrid, and, Elena notices with some surprise, Caroline. Behind the three is Bonnie, still looking a little unsteady on her feet.

"Bonnie, why don't you go downstairs and see if Stefan can get you something to drink," she says warily at her friend, who looks as though she might topple over. She nods and disappears again.

"I think I'll go with her. Call me if you need anything." Caroline shoots a distrustful glare at Klaus, which makes Elena sigh, and follows the witch. Antagonizing Klaus is the last thing that they need to do when they need his help. Klaus himself looks slightly uneasy underneath his calm facade, although whether it's due to being invited into the Salvatore house or from Caroline's hostility, Elena can't tell.

"What's going on, Elena?" He asks, seeming more sympathetic than she expects as he comes to Damon's bedside. The sight of the once formidable vampire, who is now dripping with sweat and burning hot, seems to have unsettled the Original. Ariana, however, has no such hesitation, as she strides over to stand by his bed.

Elena replies, "We don't… We don't really know." And then she begins to recount the story of the events leading up to his present condition, including the form that she saw in the trees. When she mentioned what she believed to be Silas, Klaus's brows knit together, and Ariana looks troubled.

"What? Do you know anything? Rebekah said she'd never seen anything like it, either." Elena says the last with a trace of bitterness, as the other vampire had never been fond of Damon after their little…_escapade_, and she had been incredibly insensitive. Stefan had thankfully taken her downstairs, but not before she could tell Elena _exactly _what she thought of her.

"That depends. Do you feel anything out of the ordinary in regards to him?" Klaus asks carefully. Elena represses a prickle of irritation. What kind of a question was that? As if sensing her agitation, the corners of Klaus's mouth slightly turn up.

"Other than worrying about the fact that he's _dying_, not really." She snaps. At the sound of her voice, Damon stirs again, moaning slightly as he adjusts his position.

"Are you sure? Bonnie mentioned something about you collapsing right after Damon did...," Klaus says in that infuriating, almost taunting, manner of his. Elena grits her teeth to prevent herself from losing her temper.

"Yes, Klaus, I did, but I feel completely normal now. I have no idea what happened to me. But what I have to do with Damon's condition, I don't know," she snaps at him. Klaus simply examines her curiously before turning to Ariana.

"Alright, witch. What do you think?" He shares a look of unspoken communication with Ariana before Klaus turns back to Elena.

"I may have been wrong about the extent of your little relationship with the_ Other_ Brother. It appears, however, that your little Sire Bond has been broken. And from the looks of things, Damon appears to be very, very human at the moment," Klaus says slowly. Elena wonders if she is imagining the menace in his voice, but she chooses to ignore it.

Elena blinks, attempting to take in what Klaus had just said. It all made sense! That horrible ripping sensation...that had been the sire bond breaking as Damon turned human. A flash of joy leaps through her. Her feelings for Damon had been true. She had been right all along!

Elena suppresses her triumphant smugness, gets back to the matter at hand, and replies to Klaus, "But why is he so sick? Can't we do anything to help him?" Elena's voice rises slightly in a combination of fear and agitation, and she feels anxiety shoot through her body. There goes her previous excitement. Her mind reels. So, it was possible for something to steal away your immortality. But why had it happened to Damon? And why hadn't she been affected the same way? At her raised tone, Damon became even more restless, groaning her name and shifting against the cool sheets.

"That's something I need to figure out. But I need to see your brother's body first." Ariana speaks slowly, her eyes very wary as she examines the vampire. Elena notices that this is the first time the witch has not referred to one of her kind as 'parasite.'

"Jeremy? Why?" Elena is puzzled. What on Earth could her brother, a former Hunter, have to do with Damon? Their conditions aren't even similar, and Jeremy would be waking up soon enough.

"This might be the only way to help either one of them." Ariana says, raising her eyes to meet Elena's. Elena felt a slight wave of confusion, still not understanding.

"Either one of them? But the Gilbert Ring should—"

"Just tell me what room he's in. I'll find my own way there," the witch finally snaps, and Elena sees her eyes spark with magic. She will find out eventually, there's no need to be difficult now, not with Damon's life on the line like this.

"Check down the hall," she whispers. The witch exits the room, and Elena returns to her vigil beside Damon. Taking his hand again and rubbing her thumb absently over it, marveling at the skin there, one thought goes through her mind.

_What on earth is going on?_

* * *

It takes a lot to get my trust. I don't trust often and definitely not fully. And I _especially_ don't trust vampires. Witches like me always seem to get involve with the blood sucking creatures, and then they end up dead, forever to be a third party on the Other Side.

Just like Emily, poor, gullible, _stupid_ Emily.

Yet despite all my reservations here I am, in the headquarters of their little cult. Okay, maybe it's not a hole in the ground filled with giant scorpions, flying spiders, and other sorts of nightmares, but it is where the lot of them reside. It's oddly beautiful, even I have to admit. The ancient architecture somehow makes it cozy, rustic, inviting. A girl could get used to living like this.

I find the massive kitchen, though I automatically know the room is never used. Rummaging through the refrigerator, I'm fortunate enough to find a bottled coffee and take a swig. I'm gonna need it since I hadn't slept in over 24 hours. I sigh, running my hands through my tangled dark hair. The heels of my brown boots click across the mahogany floors back to the living room, the obvious center of the manor, and I watch the frenzied vampires. Tall, Blonde, and Angry makes his way up the stairs, nodding back to me as he goes. Polite vampire? Those are words that don't belong in the same sentence. I almost release the amused chuckle on my lips loose, but I choke it down as I see Bonnie make her way into the room.

"Bonnie." I call, and she turns, wide-eyed, to the unfamiliar voice. Once she connects my southern drawl with my face, a small smile graces her lips. I stand, waiting for her to join me on the couch, and then sit slowly. "You seem like family here." I keep my tone friendly, light, and I know that only a witch would get the bite in my voice.

"I know what you must think. I tried so hard to stay away from all this. Grams—" She hesitates and sucks in a deep breath. "Grams warned me about getting involved with vampires."

"Your Grams was a wise woman. My condolences," I respond, swirling around the remaining contents of my coffee.

"Thank you." We sit there in silence for a few moments. I take another drink and arch my eyebrow at her. "What are you doing here?" she asks.

"I'm here to right the wrongs of our ancestors, honey." I place a manicured hand on her arm, and stare deep into her bag-ridden eyes. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She sighs aloud, and she restlessly leans back on the sofa. The leather pulls, but she sinks right in. "I was just trying to avert various crises. To help Elena, Jeremy, Caroline. They're my friends. Yet now they're all changed... or dead," she says, deathly monotone.

"The boy...Jeremy. You really cared for him, didn't you?" She answers with a low sigh and a tear-filled shake of the head. After a pause, I dig into my bag and grab a sticky note and pen. Scribbling various ingredients down, I hand it to her. "Take this, and go get the stuff on this list. We can probably find some way to help Jeremy."

The young girl practically flies out the door. Suddenly distracted, I stand abruptly, waltzing across the room. I don't know why I am constantly referring to the girl- Bonnie, as a girl, instead of what she really is. I study myself in a long mirror in the hallway connecting the kitchen and the living room. Bonnie and I could be sisters instead of her being my great grand-niece. I have the same olive skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. The only real differences are the fact that my hair is much longer, and I'm a foot shorter. It was nice being eternally young...the _only_ advantage to being a bloodsucker, I'll admit. I flip a curl off my shoulder and quit comparing myself to Bonnie. I know our similarities stop there. She's a juvenile…after my many years on earth, I have seen things much more terrible.

Again, I make my way into the kitchen, fumbling around for the alcohol stash. Being seventeen has done nothing to quench my thirst for this particular beverage.

"Looking for something?" a husky voice says over me. I jolt up, knocking my head on the granite counter. I gasp, and a protective arm reaches out to steady me. I turn around swiftly, leaving my hand on his muscular forearm. Spirits! This guy must be able to lift an elephant! I realize I am gaping at his arm, and my thoughts are uncloaked on my face.

I look the vampire in the eyes. The green color shines back at me, filled with concern and a bit of amusement. _Why me?_ I wonder, feeling like a blushing teenager, which I guess that I am...thought not technically. This vampire is the taller of the two, with honey colored hair and a soft smile. I realize I am still holding onto his arm, and remove it awkwardly. Rubbing the sore spot, I mumble my reply, "What does a girl have to do around here to get a Cosmopolitan?" He flashes a thousand-watt smile at me and opens the door to what looks to be a wine cellar.

"It's best for Damon if we keep all the booze in one place. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have Chardonnay?" He holds up a bottle in the doorway, and I can tell that he needs a drink just as much as I do. He has purple circles under his eyes and his back is slightly hunched. He almost seems... human. I know better, but his mannerisms display a strong line of humanity flowing through him.

"Why not? It is going to be a long night." I sit down, and he has already filled my glass and is mixing his with blood. I cock an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs while stirring the mixture completely.

"It's Stefan, by the way." He shakes my hand and half bows his head in a way that I can only know stems from the times of his youth.

"Ariana. Bennett." I say smoothly, taking a sip of my drink. "You are the only vampire I have ever met that did not give me the urge to knock them unconscious within five minutes. Congratulations."

"I am guessing this is a great honor." His smile widens. I feel the corners of my mouth turn upward as well.

"Believe me, it is."

"Well then, thank you for bestowing such a great honor upon me." Stefan bows again, and I laugh. I like him, I realize, although not in a romantic sense. Instead, I feel like he and I have an understanding.

When my laughter fades, the mood turns serious yet again. I clear my throat. "So. I need to know everything if we are going to face Silas together."

* * *

"Here's your room." Stefan opens the door and hands me an ornate brass key. He has told me everything, and ends up inviting me to stay here with the rest of them. While I know it is because he understands the value in having me as an ally, I get the feeling that he wants an unbiased friend around. During our conversation, he led me up the stairs, and he directed me into the room directly across from the boy's.

"Thanks." I flash a smile of my own at him and lug my pack through the door. I stop myself from gasping aloud. The room is beautiful. Instead of the dark, drab space that one would expect from a vampire coven, the room is mostly white with large windows. In fact, the only color comes from the golds splashed across the space. "This is kind of perfect," I gush to Stefan, who leans against the doorway.

He chuckles. "Like a kid in a candy shop," he teases. I light-heartedly frown at him as I throw my pack onto the bed. "Well, the bathroom is there, closet's there... though it seems like you won't need it."

"Believe me, Stefan; I'll fill it in no time." I make my way back to him. "I really do want to thank you for all this. I never thought a vampire could show such... compassion and consideration." This is all said somewhat grudgingly, of course. While I do feel that he and I will be friends, he's still a vampire.

"I'm sure you'll learn in your time here that we are not average vampires."

"Speaking of that... it's time to face the task at hand isn't it?"

Stefan freezes. His eyes darken and his mouth purses as I jerk my head in the direction of the room across the hall. "Jeremy...He's only seventeen and he is—was a Hunter. Do everything you can. He's the only family Elena has left." He seems to be a man of few words, and he dismisses himself, disappearing into the shadows and closing the door behind him with a thud. I shake the tension from my mind, knowing I mustn't dwell on negativity if I am to save the boy. I pull from my pack a smudge stick. Lighting it, I waft the smoke all over the room. The lavender and sage mixture purifies the space, and I spell my room, keeping it from unnatural intrusion.

I carry the smudge stick across the hall, pushing the heavy wooden door to the boy's room. I turn, slowly closing the door, trying not to make a sound. I smudge his room, tracing the perimeter, and ending at the foot of his bed. The candles dispersed throughout the space jump to life, anticipating my need for them. "Thank you, Fire," I whisper, as elemental magic requires this.

I walk to the side of the bed. I stare at his lifeless form, almost paralyzed with the wave of pain that pushes up in the back of my throat. I have seen many bodies. It was more common when I was young, and after that it was an occupational hazard, but the sight of his lifeless form affects me in ways I can't understand.

Heat sears my throat, and it feels like my lungs have shut down. Still, I move up his body. All of him is covered with the exception of his face, but his form is visible under the blankets. A powerful energy emits from his body, drawing me closer and closer. Suddenly, my fingers are inches away from his face. A part of me urges myself to turn and run, run straight out of town and back to Texas. That is the rational part of me. I shouldn't be here, working with the vampires, contemplating bringing back this Jeremy. It's breaking every rule. However, something stronger makes me stay put. Something is worth the risk. And it all has to do with this boy and his tragically young death.

I peel back the sheet, revealing the boy's face. I'm shocked that he's not actually a boy. They all acted like he was. Elena's little brother is not so little after all. Obviously tall, lean muscled, chiseled features, he is definitely a man. I can tell that he has been forced to grow up quickly, though; the evidence is on his body. I pull the cover back farther, searching for the Hunter's Mark, but all I find is the defined ripple of abs. My eyes linger briefly; mostly shocked that the mark is gone. I focus back on his face, fighting a flush for the other reason I was staring. I start again by studying the shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose, and the curvature of his mouth. I just want to etch him into my brain. He looks like he was an extraordinarily kind soul...odd, since he clearly was familiar with heartache.

I have a choice to make; I know I can save him, but is it worth the risk? This is still unnatural magic, one of the most dangerous variations. The Laws are clear, and if life is messed with, it will offset the _precious _balance.

I know that the spirits won't be happy with me if I do, even though I could care less if they are. When was the last time that I listened to the spirits anyway? They haven't had a say in my life in a long time. The only problem is I'm going to have to channel the powers of both expression and natural magic, and I don't know if I am going to be able to face the spirits alone after shutting them out for so long. But one look at Jeremy Gilbert's young handsome face tells me that it will be worth it.

I smooth down his messy black hair, and trace a finger down the stubble on his cheek. A wash of vertigo comes over me, and I see a swirl of gold snaking down my arm, out of my fingers and onto Jeremy. His Mark is visible now, traced in a golden light, and I feel a shift of power between us. I feel my body go numb, then I crash forward, blacking out after falling over him onto the bed.

I slowly open my eyes and see the petite, slim form of Emily Bennett. I blink hard, trying to chase away the oncoming migraine from the rush of power I felt. My heart catches in my throat in grief for a moment before easing as I sense her serene expression. She's not in pain; she is at peace, so there's really no reason for me to get upset over it right now, not when there are more important things to be done.

"So, sister, you've decided to ally yourself with the vampires." With a wry smile, Emily steps forward in a glide. I resist a jab about the parasitic nature of my, well, I guess they are my allies now, and come forward to stand in front of her.

"So it would seem." I look back at her. I can't often communicate with my long dead sister; it takes up so much energy and power, and she usually feels like it's unnatural, some weird unbalance of nature type thing. I'm not going to lie, that used to hurt to hear her say, but going along with the natural balance of nature was always Emily's way. And the one slip-up she had with that belief had cost her life. That's the reason I cut myself from the spirits. To stop the evil parasite from pursuing her goal after my Emily was gone. Katherine will get what's coming to her eventually.

"You know what you want to do goes against the laws of nature and balance, Ariana. The spirits wish the dead to stay _dead_." Together, we glance down at the form of Jeremy's body on the bed. But he had been so young; it is unfair that his life could be taken away so easily.

I have to force myself not to roll my eyes. She is such a goody-goody, but she's right. "I know what the spirits think, Emily, but I also know what I have to do." My voice is firm and determined, betraying nothing of the slight anxiety I feel at the thought of angering the spirits. If they took away my natural magic, they would be robbing me of half of my power. Though I don't use it traditionally, it still functions as fuel. I would still have a substantial amount of power, but not as much as I know I will need to fight Silas.

"And you always did have that perfect balance, sister. That's the only reason I'm going to tell you what I will." Emily's smile is faint, but it is nonetheless present. I smile in reply, glad that she, at least, thinks my way of magic isn't completely wrong.

"You're going to help me?" I can't stop the question from escaping from my lips, even though I know that I probably shouldn't ask it. Even though she is my sister, I know that Emily won't risk upsetting the spirits on the Other Side, and I wouldn't want her to. To my surprise, though, her smile grows and she nods.

"As much as I can, Ariana. Now, let me tell you everything you need to do. And while I'm telling you, there is something you need to know about the heritage of one of the vampires you're helping."

* * *

I awake to the faces of Elena, Stefan, and Bonnie crowding around. I sit up, waving them off. I rub my temples. Elena stays closest, her eyes flashing from me to Jeremy and something in between. I follow her eyes and see that my hand has linked with his. The gold is gone, but Jeremy looks less dead than he did before. Whatever that energy was awakened something deep within him, I can feel it, and I know now more than ever I can save him.

"Ariana, what is it?" Elena asks, cautiously gaging the witch's emotions, not entirely convinced that lightning won't suddenly start crackling down from the ceiling. my eyes narrowed in determination as my focus shifts from Elena to the thundering footsteps behind her as Caroline, Klaus, and Rebekah appear behind her. I give the Originals a once over, and I can't help noticing the King of the Damned's lingering hand on Caroline, although she appears not to notice. I note it, however, before shifting my attention back to Elena again.

"I'll help you fix Jeremy." My voice is fierce and determined, and I can tell by Elena's reaction she feels a jolt of excitement. She seems suddenly uneasy, as she watches my face and clearly begins to see through her denial. I try to shift it to a more neutral expression, but I can tell she's wary of me. I chew my lip, looking back at Jeremy.

"I'll save him, I promise."

**Read and review! A new chapter will be up as soon as possible! **** Some interesting characters are going to come to play soon…**


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